They don't tick, really
by Carmilla DeWinter
Summary: Tie-in with Interviewer Bias. Bits and pieces of Scully with the 'bots.
1. Introduction

Now, since the little universe I created refused to let me go, here's a continuation of sorts for 'Interviewer Bias'. Basically, it's snippets of Scully's stay at Autobot Base. We see how parts of her report for the President came about, so there won't be much plot and overall action, but a lot of anthropology, if it's politically correct to call it that.

EDIT Jan 8, 2009: If you're looking for the new chapters - they'd be the second and third to last, so the 'conclusion' is actually the conclusion. In order to avoid further chaos, I haven't shuffled anything else around, so the chronological order only applies for parts 2 through 7.

Disclaimer: The 'bots and Scully are definitely not mine. Therefore I'm not making money with this. There are also some direct quotes from the (live action) movie in the introduction.

Usual caveats: I'm German. If I'm making mistakes, please bother to correct me.

* * *

They don't tick. Really.

Introduction

Before time began, there was the Cube. It is not known where it came from, only that it held the power to create worlds and fill them with life. That was how the race was born.

For a time, the race lived in harmony, led by a Prime and his most trusted champion, the Lord Protector.

But like all great power, some wanted the Cube for good, others for evil. One especially, a Lord Protector named Megatron, desired the Cube for himself, hoping to create an army that would allow him to rule the universe.

And so the war began, laying waste to the once great planet and killing millions, until the Prime saw no other choice but to launch the Cube into space.

What was left of the warring factions scattered across the galaxy, hoping to find the Cube and rebuild their home.

And just when all hope seemed lost, message of a new discovery drew the race to a hitherto unknown planet called Earth.

The war resumed, and in the process, the Cube was destroyed and the usurper Megatron was killed.

Which brings us… here.

Nevada, August 2007


	2. sleep

If you don't catch the literary reference, go read Blade Runner.

* * *

I. Sleep 

"Why do _you_ sleep?"

Scully raised her eyebrow at Ratchet. "It's not considered polite to answer a question with another question", she told him.

He looked down at her with a frown. "I am not a polite mech. And I've been teaching for a few ten thousand years of your time. Indulge me and answer my question."

She raised her eyebrow a little higher but thought of an answer nevertheless. Aggravating as Ratchet was, he was also quite a handy resource, and she wasn't going to antagonize him. "It's not quite clear as of yet why a brain needs sleep", she complied. "However, we know sleep deprivation has a great number of adverse effects. Our reasoning will become impaired, our reaction time is lengthening, we'll have trouble concentrating. There's evidence our long-term memory needs sleep, but we have no idea why."

Ratchet clicked, sounding satisfied, and shifted on his stool. "You just provided your own answer", he said. "We're as much at a loss about this as you are. We might not need as much sleep as you do, but sleep deprivation does have ill effects on us as well."

"Hmm." Scully tapped her knee. "It makes sense, I suppose. I was just surprised, because our computers don't need downtime, provided you keep them from overheating."

"You should know better than to compare us to one of your computers." He was using a mild tone, quite suddenly, and she thought he was hurt.

"Of course. I'm sorry. It's just something I do unconsciously. I'm just prejudiced by living around non-sentient electronics for most of my life."

There was a rumble from him that was, maybe, acceptance.

"As far as I know, no one did realize that Megatron wasn't an artifact until you Autobots arrived here", she continued.

"I know. I sincerely hope they wouldn't have treated Bumblebee like they did if they had known."

Scully nodded. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Why they'd even considered staying here after that incident, she couldn't hope to understand.

"It's not your fault, and I can't say what might have happened to one of yours if they crashed on Cybertron."

"I'm told your atmosphere might be somewhat detrimental to humans."

He nodded. "Probably. But I'm talking about the disregard for organic life many of my species share. I myself was surprised when Bumblebee radioed in and said you were sentient and technologically advanced to such a degree."

She looked at him, because there was something he wasn't telling her. "You fear us", she hazarded a guess.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to object. Then, his expression changed into thoughtfulness. "I wouldn't say fear. Not quite. But you're so many and you're developing at a speed that is downright fantastical. It's somewhat disturbing, with us being so few and in need of some peace."

And that was why they were hiding, obviously. Scully tried to imagine what might happen should the 'bots be revealed, but her brain stalled. There were too many opinions, too many worldviews, too much political reasoning to take into account. In all the arguing that would ensue, how many people would remember that they were talking about sentient beings? "I'd say to prepare for the worst and hope for the best", she offered.

"Prowl is doing that now. Still, one can dream. Isn't that what you say?"

"It's meant for something relatively unlikely. Since you have earned the favor of the government, I wouldn't be too worried."

"You're holding elections next year."

"True. But some things really don't change all that much over time. My job alone survived almost three Presidents. Actually, I'd be more worried about the current office holder than about whoever is going to be next."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe not." He picked at the vaguely human-shaped heap of cables and circuit boards that was, one day, going to be a new 'bot. Small and with the mind of a baby and, thus, helpless. "I have no desire to add new nightmares to my old ones."

Scully hmm-ed. He'd unwittingly answered another two of her questions. No mechanical sheep for this android, obviously. She watched his big neon-colored hand poke a wire into place. The least she could do was helping the little ones grow up without reasons for nightmares. Yes. She smiled at the new flame of protectiveness burning inside her. It felt good to have a cause again.


	3. no savior

II. no savior

The first time Scully noticed that the ostensibly unused hangar saw quite a lot of visitors was on the Saturday after the party. Around one a.m. a constant stream of 'bots came striding up to it, stayed in there and, after twenty minutes or so, emerged again.

She finished her BLT, taken outside today, did some math and came to the conclusion that Ironhide was still in there.

She hurried to clean her plate up and approached the innocuous brown-gray structure. The gates were closed, so she carefully opened the human sized door to its right. It gave about two inches with a painful groan that echoed oddly in the seemingly empty building. Scully saw that it was held by a rather solid looking chain.

There was the thunder of a large mech's footsteps, and the gate was pulled open just far enough for Ironhide to peek out.

"Ever heard of knocking?" he grumbled at her. She remembered that she hadn't heard him speak before. For some reason she'd expected him to have a deeper voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that anyone was in here," she lied smoothly.

He gave her a look that said he wasn't quite convinced. "What do you want?"

"Prime said this hangar was not being used. Yet you had quite a gathering here." Ten in total, to be exact.

"He'd say something like that, right," Ironhide conceded and there was a rev from his engine. "You can come in if stay out of the circle."

She was left to ponder this instruction as he stepped back and opened the gate a fraction more so she could slip in. The first thing that struck her was actual sunlight, rays shining unhindered through differently sized squares cut from the roof. There were five of them, all in a straight east-west line, if her sense of direction was worth anything.

Smack dab in the middle, under the biggest of the squares, sat a cube, maybe four feet high, made out of the reddish rock you got in this part of the world. There were two circles of smaller cubes around it, the outer as wide as the oblong building allowed, the inner maybe with a twenty foot diameter. Some sand had already gathered on the concrete floor. It was all very still and calming, somehow, reminding her of an ancient Egyptian temple.

"Who is it that you worship here?" she asked.

He was silent for a minute before offering some Cybertronian words. "You may call them Primus," he added. "And Unicron, probably. It's difficult to translate."

"It's a very beautiful place," she said. "Very serene."

He nodded at the compliment.

"Are you holding these meetings every day?"

"No." He looked down at her. "Back home, there'd be a small gathering every… day, for everyone who wanted to attend and didn't have to be somewhere. But one of our days was almost as long as two weeks for you are. So we've decided to hold a meeting every Saturday. It begins when the sun is at its highest point."

She nodded. "Would you tell me about your religion?"

He stared at the cube, and then at her. "We do this properly," he said, voice decisive. "Be here at eight thirty tomorrow. We'll start when the sun is shining through the Easternmost square."

Scully raised her eyebrow at his tone, but nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

Grumbling something unintelligible, he opened the gate for her again, and she walked out into the midday heat.

There seemed to be some anticipation building in the base over the day, and once Prime looked at her oddly. She wasn't ready to confront him about his lie, but she looked back at him, promising that she would.

On Sunday morning, she was a little too early and feeling somewhat guilty for not attending Mass. She hung back outside the circle as she watched Ironhide kneeling on the floor. With all that black armor and the dim light, he looked a little like a Samurai.

Much to her surprise, around eight thirty, 'bots started coming in, first Prowl and Jazz, Prowl taking place in the outer circle as Jazz knelt down opposite to Ironhide in the inner circle. Eventually, everyone except Ratchet was there, and she wasn't the only one left outside the circle. Prime was there, but had retreated to the far wall, while the twins and Bluestreak obviously had less qualms about being seen.

It was eerily silent, and Scully shivered a little despite herself. She didn't even dare to pray, some part of her unconscious afraid of offending these alien, stark gods they were worshipping here.

After an eternity of silence, sunlight spilled into the first square and bathed the cube in golden light, an otherworldly glow. Such an ancient trick, such a human trick, and yet it was effective.

"In the beginning, everything was nothing, and nothing was everything, and everything was one," Ironhide intoned suddenly, making her start. "Then, order was diverted from chaos, and light from dark, and beginning from ending. Then, light realized it was different from dark, and dark realized it was different from light, and the light was named Primus and the darkness was Unicron, for everything shall return to chaos once its time comes."

He paused, as if to let this poetic description of entropy sink in.

"For eons, light and dark contemplated each other, until they sought new things to watch and contemplate. Thus the stars and planets were born. Yet Unicron found them too orderly and made the Cube, to bring life to this universe. The Cube wandered through space as per Unicron's behest, making worlds out of planets. At last he found a sphere of metal, and from the metal he molded creatures that soon spread over the planet. And Unicron looked at his creations and was satisfied.

"Yet Primus looked at all that teeming life and found it too disorderly, so he made the Matrix to bring sentience to Unicron's creatures. Each spark he found in the metal life forms, he infused with a part of his Matrix. And the creations looked at each other and found themselves individuals, and mortal. And Primus's creatures named their planet Cybertron and themselves mechanoids.

"And this is how our race was born, children of Unicron, children of Primus."

There was more echo than there should have been, but eventually, it abated and the temple was left in silence once again, or as much silence as fourteen mechanoids were capable of.

After several minutes, there was movement, and they filed out, as quietly as they had arrived.

Only Ironhide remained, and eventually, he, too, stood and ambled over to squat down next to her. "You may pose your questions now."

Scully paused. "This was your creation myth?"

He rumbled something which she supposed to be an assent.

"It's beautiful." And overwhelmingly different. "Is it only to explain the existence of the Cube and the Matrix?"

"Only? It's a lot."

"Yes. Of course. Can you explain to me what else there is? For example, Catholicism says that Jesus died to save us."

He blinked at her. "But that assumes you're guilty of something."

"Yes. Humanity has a huge capacity for evil. That can't be the will of God."

He was silent for a while. "Primus gave us sentience. The ability to choose. He's gotta accept that some choose wrong." He tilted his head. "Besides, if I'm doing wrong, as you say, then the folks in the Matrix will kick my aft for it once I join them."

But… what was the point then?

He grinned down at her. "Not the usual human approach, huh? Basically, they made us. There's a few scientific theories, but they don't openly contradict the myth. We believe they're looking out for us when we make mistakes. We thank them and request favors. And that's it. It's not like you could argue the existence of the Cube and the Matrix."

Scully nodded. Okay… so there was no otherworldly punishment waiting for the 'bots if they misbehaved, only after-worldly punishment. The conservation of all minds inside this Matrix was a matter of fact to them, not a religious concept. It was all peer pressure, so to speak. "It's an intriguing concept."

He rumbled again. "It's shorter than most of yours, that's for sure."

"Yes." She smiled up at him. "Would you explain what the circles mean?"

"Hm. The outer circle is for believers. The inner circle is for… teachers. Those that know how to tell the stories and explain them."

She nodded. "One should assume Prime was a teacher. And what about Ratchet and the others?"

"Ratchet's an atheist. The twins weren't raised in the right environment, and Blue's creators were in some monotheistic sect. Prime's difficult, though. He's got the status, sure, but he's kinda… he doesn't believe they guide us anymore? He believes, but he doesn't trust. And he's got a bit of a bad conscience about it, with him being Prime and everything."

Scully nodded. She understood the feeling of losing one's faith very well. It also explained his reluctance to admit to the hangar's purpose. "Thank you… Would you mind if I prayed to my God in here?"

He looked down at her. "He's a creator god, no?"

She nodded.

"Then he's part of the two. You go on."

It was unsettling, this acceptance of God as part of some other, totally alien gods. And yet. It was stupid to assume that He didn't have a hand in all of creation. If He'd made humans, so He'd made the 'bots and any other species that lived in this universe. Even the little gray men.

It was frightening. And it wasn't frightening the 'bots, which was yet another reason she felt a slight churning in her insides.

Scully walked to the outer rim of the circle and knelt down to pray for reassurance and guidance.

* * *

Feel free to yell at me, but don't be surprised if I ignore it. 


	4. rain

Thanks for the reviews!

Here's something a little more lighthearted.

* * *

III. Rain

There was a roar as if a stream had suddenly appeared outside.

Scully groaned and blinked first at the dark ceiling, then at her alarm clock. 2:37, the serene orange letters told her. Gah. There hadn't been a stream yesterday… or, wait. Rain. She listened to the pattering on the window, as if someone was pelting handfuls of sands at it. Only the 'bots wouldn't do such a thing. So. It was raining. In the middle of the desert.

She wrestled herself out of the covers and padded over to the window, just in time to see Ratchet and the twins emerge from their shack. As far as she could make out through the silver sheets of droplets, they were just standing there, faces turned skyward, as if they'd never seen rain before.

Well… Ratchet had been here for three months and the twins for one month now. Likely they'd never experienced rain before, so this was probably a Momentous Occasion, and she'd better be there for it.

Yawning, she dug through her suitcase to find some clothes that would survive a torrent of water and then walked out to the runway.

She was soaked when she arrived, hair plastered to her head and sending cool rivulets down her neck, her t-shirt clinging to her in a manner that was probably indecent, but then, it wasn't like big robots would be interested in that sort of thing.

The 'bots acknowledged her with nods, but otherwise didn't bother to address her. So she crossed her arms to keep warm and waited, listening to the rain drumming random patterns on their armor.

Only a minute after she'd arrived, there was the sound of an engine, and the white SUV that was Wheeljack came careening towards them. He didn't transform, but still she thought he was fascinated.

Eventually, everyone was out of their respective beds, or presumed beds, and just stood in the rain in various stages of wakefulness.

Scully felt somewhat as if she'd been transported to Stonehenge, circled by those still, silent giants.

Eventually, the white van drew up next to her and transformed. Wheeljack shook himself like a wet dog, not that it would help, and squatted down. "I find the amount of hydrogen oxide… water you have on your planet quite amazing," he told her.

"We wouldn't be here without it," Scully said. "Don't you have water on Cybertron?"

"Not this much. We'd get clouds occasionally, but never enough for precipitation. Also, I'm afraid our ancestors used quite a bit of it as fuel, until we ran into the same problem you're currently facing with your oil."

That was it. Scully was going to look up the theory of fusion reactors tomorrow. "So you've never seen rain before?"

"We did come across a small number of planets that did have water for rain, so no, this is not the first time I or the rest of the Serenity's crew have seen rain. But it's still a rare experience, and it carries a lot of meaning on organic planets, doesn't it?"

"Water is life, here," Scully rephrased her earlier statement.

"Exactly. It's a difficult concept to wrap our minds about, being metal and silicone based ourselves."

"Hmm." Maybe it was what they were trying to do right now. "Why name a sparkling Raindance, then?"

He blinked and his ear panels flashed blue, his version of a smile, as she'd learned. "She's not named Raindance, that's just a close concept to what her actual name means, and she, Dodge and Blue liked it for being so poetic."

Scully nodded. It made sense, but it was very complicated at the same time. "So, are only your English names group decisions or are your Cybertronian names like that, too?"

He was silent for a time. "Our designations don't work like yours. But you better ask Dodge about this, since she is the one with the degree in linguistics."

"I shall," Scully said.

They stared out into the rainy night some more.

"I've researched this on the internet," Wheeljack eventually said. "You're not showing your culture's typical reaction to rain."

"No. I'm making an exception for you."

"Ah. Why?"

"It hadn't rained since you arrived here."

"So you thought you'd go see a historical occasion and maybe hear a few things that would make a good quote."

"Approximately."

"I'm sorry to disappoint." There was the blink plus blue flash again. "If it's any consolation, rain feels a lot different than the solvents we use for washing. It tickles in places I didn't even know I had."

Scully nodded her agreement. "It's really not all that bad if it's not too cold."

"Same here."

They listened to the rain, and their silence was a cozy little bubble of understanding.

Eventually, the rain petered out, and the clouds allowed some pale half-moon light to pass through.

There were sounds of everyone moving, and Scully turned to see them all come out of their daze. Only Sunstreaker remained still, maybe because he was a painter.

In turn, Ratchet was watching him with an inscrutable face, and yes, the Lamborghini did look good with all the drops glinting like gemstones on his well-waxed armor.

"Some things are erotic no matter the species, no?" Wheeljack asked her very quietly.

Scully had no trouble imagining a wet Mulder, despite her almost hour-long cool shower. "Oh, yes," she said. "Definitely."


	5. namecalling

Thanks to soului for commenting.

* * *

IV. Namecalling 

Scully approached Dodge warily. The femme was sitting on a crate in the early morning shade of the unused hangar, watching her daughter play in the sand damp from last night's rain.

There were some dirt splashes on her purple armor indicating that she'd partaken in the activity before having been chased off by Raindance's fierce expression.

"Good morning," Scully said.

"Morning," Dodge answered and smiled a little.

"I talked to Wheeljack last night and he said you have a degree in linguistics."

"Ancient Cybertronian and Archeology, actually. Why?"

Scully took that as indication that Dodge was somewhat willing to talk and leaned to the wall next to her. "I was wondering how your names came to be."

There was a whirr as Dodge tilted her head slightly. "That's a complicated subject. Especially since English is so… imprecise. You have so many homonyms, something that Cybertronian hasn't. It's difficult to find translations that you wouldn't find utterly ridiculous."

"You've been doing quite well so far."

Dodge offered a curt nod. "Thank you."

"So, how do your Cybertronian names come about?"

There was the whirr again. It probably meant that Dodge was searching for a good explanation. Eventually she said, "Everyone of us comes with something that's like a serial number… or like your Social Security number, maybe, but those don't really tell you who you're talking to. So, once we are online, our creators name us, and that name will tell you about the person they hope you'll grow to be. It's basically one or two words with an ending that indicates it's a name rather than a phrase."

"Hmm." There was probably more to it, so Scully decided to wait Dodge out.

"Some designations can change over time", she was finally rewarded. "When it's obvious that the name and the person don't fit that well anymore, someone will start calling them a… nickname? Like Optimus, or Prowl, or myself. Some go so far as to choose for themselves, like Jazz or Bumblebee."

"It's very different from our way of naming children, you're right."

"You mean it's different from the current Western standard", she said. "I know that Asian and Semitic languages pick first names that actually have a meaning, even if they don't change them over time."

"I'm not very familiar with that", Scully admitted. Apparently, Wheeljack wasn't the only geek around Autobot Base. "But most names do have a meaning."

Dodge clicked. "You are Dana, which I assume is derived from a name for the Greek. But I doubt you're Greek, and I don't think I have to fear you even if you offer tributes."

"Homer", Scully said. "And you're right. Most names are picked for how they sound, or children are named after someone whose qualities you admire…"

"Maybe. But that doesn't change the fact someone might misinterpret such a name, depending on his previous experience and education. I'm afraid that it doesn't make much sense to us. How you're weighing down sparklings… children with appellations you don't understand, I mean. Some might consider it downright cruel."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Let me assure you that it usually doesn't cause psychological damage."

Dodge shot her an askance look. "Our cultures are very different", she said.

Taking a deep breath, Scully decided to accept the apology. Hadn't she herself thought the Autobots' names cute or comical? "Yes. It's easy to forget, sometimes."

"Is it? Or is it just because we seem to speak English so well?"

"Probably. I'm sorry." She was here to learn from them, not to judge them.

Dodge clicked at her.

"So… what would you call me?", Scully asked. No better way to understand a process than to be actually part of it.

"Excuse me?" Two burning blue eyes bore down at her as if they wished to drill a hole into her head and see what she was thinking.

"If you had to find a Cybertronian name for me, what would you call me?"

This time, Dodge whirred for a very long time. Seconds ticked away to minutes ticked away to be a quarter of an hour. "I don't know you that well", Dodge offered then. "You're a medic, you're smart and persistent. It's your job to ask questions. You have red hair and you don't look like much…" She paused as if waiting for Scully to object to the latter part.

Scully didn't. In fact, she had the feeling that the same had been said about Dodge. "That sounds like me. What did you find?"

"There's a number of possibilities. Easiest would be Scalpel, Razor, or Query. Copperblade. Steelcore. Or, more feminine, Clarita."

Scully blinked. "So, which of those?"

Dodge blinked back at her. "You're an adult. You're free to pick one or wait for further suggestions if you don't like mine."

This was truly different from 'current Western standard'. At least this was just a theoretic exercise and not a true name-giving ceremony. Otherwise Scully would have found this a little unsettling, depending on a total stranger for a name. "I like Razor." Something that would be small and unassuming in reality, but a very effective weapon, too. Adding the allusion to Occam's Razor was a great bonus.

"Good", Dodge said. "Was there anything else, Razor?"

Scully looked up at her but couldn't tell whether she was joking or not. Oh, what the hell. She'd just consider it an honor that Dodge had spared almost twenty minutes to indulge Scully's sudden whim and had actually come up with something good. "Actually, yes. How does your species learn and where did you get the degree?"


	6. books and their covers

I'll be moving next weekend and have no idea when I'll be online again, so I've decided to just dump the rest of this on you and be done with it – don't hesitate to review, though ;)

Thanks again to everyone who's left their comments so far.

* * *

V. books and their covers

Ambling along the orange corridors on her way from Ratchet's lair, Scully found the bridge unusually full. Prime, Ironhide and Prowl were standing behind someone sitting in front of the big monitor, and Prime did have Captain Lennox sitting on his shoulder.

"Look, only because I know what an algorithm is doesn't mean I understand one," she overheard Lennox saying.

They were doing programming? Scully veered off her course an approached the group.

"It's just the quarantine program," an exasperated voice said. It took Scully a moment to place it. Sideswipe. "It's the easy part. We're teaching your networks to recognize Decepticon signals. Once a computer is infiltrated, it will shut down all connections, so the virus can't spread."

"Ah. I guess that's good." Lennox sounded doubtful.

"You bet," Ironhide interjected.

Scully chose that moment to clear her throat, and the 'bots turned to look at her.

"Dr. Scully," Prime rumbled curtly.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. May I listen further?"

He considered her for a moment. "That would be up to Captain Lennox to decide."

"It's a matter of national security," Lennox offered. "But then, so're you 'bots. Make yourself comfortable, doc. This is going to take a while."

As she found a convenient spot of wall to lean against, Sideswipe continued. "The quarantine program is relatively small, it should easily fit on one of your home computers."

"If you could convince Microsoft to disguise it as one of their updates, you'd create a reliable security net," Prowl said.

"Otherwise I'll just reprogram it as a virus," Sideswipe added. "Anyhow,_this_ is the really big baby."

Obviously, he'd called something on the screen that was examined in silence for several minutes.

"Well," Ironhide said.

"It does look sound," Prowl said. "Are you sure the Decepticon codes won't do any damage?"

"Yes," Sideswipe hissed. "Ratchet had a look at it. 'Jack had a look at it. And I ran it twice on my station, with the new virus and an old one. Everything's fraggin' peachy."

Scully shifted at his tone. Obviously he was used to questions like that, and he didn't like them.

"Um," Lennox piped up. "Would you mind terribly to explain what this thing does?"

"Right." She heard Sideswipe tapping the screen. "It mimics a Decepticon program. Basically, it will tell whatever virus they plant to desist and erase itself. It also notes any changes to the Decepticon signals and incorporates them into its own signal so that it looks legit."

"Well," Lennox echoed Ironhide's earlier reaction. "That's brilliant." She heard his smile. "You're a genius."

"Eh. It's pretty simple, actually," Sideswipe said.

"Yeah. But no one thought about it before, right? That makes you a genius."

Sideswipe made an indecipherable noise.

"It's deceptively simple, so to speak. It's also much smaller than Secretary Keller requested, which is very good," Prowl interjected. "We should try and bargain a little more."

"Definitely. You should milk this for all it's worth, really," Lennox said.

"'s good work, kid," Ironhide grumbled. "Never thought you'd have it in you."

There was a slight pause. "Yes," Prime eventually offered. "Well done, Sideswipe."

This was followed by another pause that was much more awkward.

"Well," Lennox said, "I'm really sorry, but I need to contact the SecDef about this now. If you'd excuse me…"

"I'll drive you back," Prime said. He turned and walked out. Prowl followed after patting Sideswipe on the shoulder.

Ironhide lingered for a moment. "You know how they suck at the emotional slag, kid. You shoulda heard Prime when he thought Jazz was dead. Spouted a load of frag. Don't take it too hard."

There was something akin to a sigh from Sideswipe.

Ironhide, too, patted him on the shoulder and walked out.

It took only a moment for Sideswipe to go from rigid to hunched over and start muttering something in Cybertronian. It didn't sound complimentary.

Scully cleared her throat, and he swiveled the chair around so he could glare at her.

"You still here?"

"I'm afraid so. I gather you worked on a defense program for the Pentagon?"

He blinked at her. "Not only for them, but yeah."

"It sounds to be rather effective."

He nodded. "'s gotta be."

"Of course. After the communications blackout, I'm sure it will be highly appreciated."

He gave her a bitter grin, but didn't say anything.

"I'm positive Captain Lennox will mention that it was your idea."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're not succeeding," he told her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be patronizing. I just had the impression that Prime doesn't like you much."

"Heh." He gave her a wry smile. "That's the understatement of the vorn."

She raised her eyebrow, hoping he'd elaborate.

"Sunny and me, we joined up as grunts. The command element don't like when the grunts show intelligence."

"But Prime seems like he does value independent thought," she objected.

"Yeah. But we're a bit more dangerous than the average Autobot."

She nodded. "Bluestreak said you were gladiators."

"Yeah," he said. "That, too."

He blinked at her again and turned around to face the screen.

Obviously, the audience was over. She shrugged and walked off. She'd find out eventually.


	7. before and after

Small disclaimer: the name 'Idioma' was first used by An Cailin Rua, so kudos to her. Btw, if you didn't have a look at her Tricolora series yet, you missed out on something.

* * *

VI. before and after

Scully watched the common room more closely, and once she was sure that it was Bluestreak's shift at monitoring duty, she decided to drop by accidentally.

He seemed extremely pleased about the company.

"Hello, Dr. Scully. May I help you?" He beamed at her, and he struck her as extremely young that moment.

"Actually, yes. I was wondering what all of you did for a living, before the war?" Now that she knew that 'making a living' meant earning credits to afford housing, new parts, coolant, lubricant, hydrogen (for the reactor) and helium (ditto).

"Oh. Of course. I don't know about absolutely everyone, some are pretty much close-mouthed about it, but I'll try. Prime was Prime, of course, and before that, I think he was an attorney or something, but that was before my time. He got chosen by Sentinel Prime, and that was it. You know, I don't think he'd be a good attorney, he's really bad at speeches, so he had Idioma, that was Dodge's femme creator, as a speech writer. I know Prowl was chief of the Iacon police, and Ironhide was an instructor at the academy, for policemen, that is. I think Elita wanted a career at that, too, but then she met Prime, and she got to be, what do you call it, First Lady, doing a lot of charity. She was from a pretty rich family, too, and there's a rumor that they were really glad she met Prime before she managed to do any real work. I don't know about Chromia, I heard she was working as a palace guard. No one knows about Jazz, he just turned up one day, but there's this rumor that he was the best burglar in the whole northern hemisphere before Prowl caught him. Anyhow, that's the officers. Ratchet's always been a medic, and Wheeljack was doing research at the Iacon Academy. Dodge was teaching there, too, mostly Ancient Cybertronian. She's really into languages. And I already told you about the twins."

"That leaves you", she remarked.

"Right, I was getting to that. It's nothing special, really. My creators had a shop for interior design, and I helped them out. They didn't have enough credits to send me to an Academy, so I was saving up, but", he made a helpless gesture.

Scully nodded. War happened. "Thank you." Then something caught her attention. "You're the youngest of them all, aren't you?"

He tilted his head at her. "That's right. I was about ten vorns old, that's as old as Raindance is now, when the war started."

She raised an eyebrow. She knew a vorn translated into roughly eighty earth years and constituted about one year in their concept of time. "But. I'm sorry, I don't see her helping out in any business."

"Oh, you're right, and I wouldn't want it, either. But you know, they brought me online in an adult body because they needed help really quickly, so I came with a lot of programming she hasn't and I skipped a lot of development." He looked at the far wall, seeming distant.

"I'm sorry", Scully repeated. "It must have been difficult."

"I wouldn't know, I've never experienced anything else. I probably would have been killed if they'd done it the other way, though, so I guess they did me a favor." He smiled at her, but it looked fake.

Nevertheless, she smiled back. "I don't know if this is personal, but do you mind telling me how old Dodge is?"

"What? No. It's not like with you humans, and how you don't ask any femme's age. It doesn't really mean that much to us, not with some people looking adult from the day they were sparked. Dodge is about twice my age, you see. I know Elita doesn't like her because of it, because when I met Dodge, I was only a little older than Bee is now, and she thinks Dodge took advantage. She never asked my opinion, though, and she surely doesn't know Bee's about the matter, so I try to ignore it."

Scully hadn't thought that the cradle-robber-cliché could be translated into the 'bot world, but here it was. Obviously, Bluestreak hadn't really been considered an adult when the relationship had started. And yet, here they were, bonded and with a kid of their own, and obviously not regretting it, though she couldn't imagine why it worked. "I'm sure Elita is just worried that Bumblebee might make a commitment he doesn't fully understand", she reasoned.

"I'm more worried about Raindance than him", Bluestreak said curtly.

"She did strike me as quite sensible", Scully objected and wondered if anyone else found him difficult to talk to. These random switches between almost childish chattiness and serious demeanor unnerved her a little.

"Maybe, Dr. Scully. That doesn't change the fact that she'll probably be the only single femme around here once she gets the upgrades that make her an adult."

"You're afraid someone might pressure her."

"Someone? Everyone, Dr. Scully. They might not mean to, but they won't be able to help it."

"I see." Imagine being the only unattached (and childless) woman of the last fourteen survivors somewhere, or being told your daughter would be required to have a child as soon as she was able to. Scully shuddered. There really wasn't much in consolation she had to offer. "You'll have to teach her to ignore it. Didn't you do it yourself?"

He blinked at her and nodded. "I suppose." He shook himself as if to get rid of those depressing thoughts. "Was there anything else?", he asked, tone bright once more.

Scully really had no idea how Dodge was able to put up with this.

But then, Dodge only ever talked about her work, if at all, and Scully had no idea how Bluestreak was able to put up with that, either,


	8. men are from mars, women are from venus

Men are from Mars, women are from Venus (and Cybertronians are from Cybertron)

Dodge's two cents:

„You know, the kids were so scandalized when they saw the one of you in the washracks," Sideswipe said, completely out of the blue.

Dodge blinked. "Sunny's got one of everyone in the washracks," she pointed out. It was a favorite of his, because it was ostensibly very difficult. Bluestreak was as confused about the turn of conversation as she was.

"Yeah, but they went all 'but she's a girl!'"

"Um." It was odd, being called that word, this odd moniker that was neutral definition, a reason for pride, an excuse and an offense all at once. "Well, human genders usually don't share their bathrooms. But I thought they'd have gotten the idea by now."

"You femmes aren't exactly making it easy for them," Sunny said. "Magenta and purple are considered female colors around here."

"And you chose a female voice, too," Sides added, with a rather evil grin. "Aaand you got yourself some curves. Good thing you can't waggle your hips like Mikaela, or else the illusion would be complete."

Blue snickered and Sunny graced them with one of his rare smiles at that.

"I so can," she said. It was an unspoken agreement between her and Blue that Sunny needed to smile more. "Look."

She stood up and did her best for five steps before giving up. "I feel like an idiot," she told them then, which garnered more chuckles.

"Aww, no, Dodgie. It's pretty," Sides gushed. "It would be even prettier with high heels."

Okay. If she was doing her share of being an idiot, she might as well indulge. Lifting each of her feet, she modified them into something that human called stilettos. Huh. This didn't feel too good. She bent her left ankle a little, and it made her wobble. "No way," she declared.

"Pretty please, Dodgie?"

Well, it wasn't like she wasn't trying out human habits… she flipped Sides a middle finger.

The three mechs dissolved in to laughter.

Dodge shook her head, grinning, and reverted her feet to good old flats. She'd have to consider reworking her if those curves she'd been advised to assume while here were such a reason for misunderstandings.

Anyways, she could probably count herself lucky that she wasn't a girl.

* * *

Scully's version:

On Tuesday, Scully had taken her work to the rec. room, since it didn't seem to be a movie night. In fact, only the twins, Bluestreak and Dodge were there, sitting at a table and talking.

Scully went on writing her diary with the hum of their odd voices as background, until a chair scraped over the concrete floor. She looked up and found Dodge walk a few steps, doing an excellent impression of Jack Sparrow.

Dodge stopped, and said something that sounded like a complaint. That made Sideswipe wheedle. She seemed to consider whatever challenge had been issued, then did something to her feet and reformatted them into something that would amount, by Cybertronian standards, to two inch stilettos.

Dodge seemed to test her balance, and said something that was clearly a refusal.

More wheedling from Sideswipe got him flipped off.

While the mechs were laughing, Dodge returned her feet to normal and plopped herself down in her chair again.

Scully tapped her lips with a finger; this had been a highly interesting piece of interaction. Something, apparently, had prompted Dodge to sway her hips like that, something the femmes usually didn't do.

Hmm. It was an oversight on Scully's part that she hadn't analyzed body language yet. Only, if she really thought about what she'd seen, there was no glaringly obvious difference in how the Cybertronian genders comported themselves. In fact, it seemed to have more to do with class or maybe educational background than anything else.

Scully raised her eyebrow, called up a new file and made a list of things that had somehow slipped by her notice until now.

Like the fact that all touchy-feely individuals on base were mechs. Bluestreak being the most obvious, Jazz being the second, though Dodge bore it with much more grace than Prowl, who sometimes couldn't hide his long-suffering air.

Third was Sideswipe, who wasn't particularly gentle or unmanly when touching Sunstreaker, but the sheer amount of such contact should leave every human male baffled. (Scully had the suspicion that all these touches were meant to reassure Sunstreaker, and that Sideswipe only took the initiative because Sunstreaker was too proud to admit he needed comfort.)

Forth was Ratchet, who obviously didn't mind having either twin use his lap as a cushion, even when someone was watching.

On the other hand, Chromia seemed to be a macho with a mouth that wasn't so much potty as it was a full blown sewer (and no one called her on it, ever), and one of Raindance's favorite activities seemed to be getting dirty.

On an impulse, Scully snuck over to the entertainment center, where the collection of eighty two illegally burned DVD's revealed a grand total of three romantic comedies. And it wasn't because the femmes didn't have a say in the almost nightly decision making; Scully had heard them argue before.

Coming to think of that, the femmes' Cybertronian voices weren't noticeably higher than those of the mechs.

She allowed herself one moment to scrunch up her face in despair.

It was obvious that human gender stereotypes didn't apply here, but how to get that through to any human without making the femmes sound like a bunch of tomboys and the mechs vaguely effeminate was, as of yet, beyond her. Especially since her intended audience was a testosterone-ridden President who had made it quite clear that he was suffering from homophobia.

Yup. It was good there wasn't any alcohol on base.


	9. the guilty and their victims

Disclaimer: Any fictional characters mentioned in their conversation aren't mine either.

* * *

The victims, the guilty and the gray divide

"Our species' conscious history begins at a time we call the Awakening. One day a mech woke up in a laboratory of sorts and was sentient. He was greeted by another mech, who identified himself as Alpha Trion, and said that his people had been enslaved by a race that had come from the depth of space – the Quintessons. Alpha Trion showed-"

Prowl stopped his barely begun history lecture, because something came darting into the rec. room, screaming 'aaaah' in a rather high pitched voice. It ducked under a table, skidded around the puzzled 'bots working on the insulation and came to hide behind Dodge.

Scully blinked. Size and behavior said it was Raindance, but the color didn't fit – it was red and black.

"You gotta help me," the child pleaded. "There's a Jedi after me."

"Ah," Dodge said, obviously neither impressed by the antics nor the new paintjob.

"There's usually no reason to flee from Jedi," Bluestreak pointed out.

"But. I'm Darth Maul! And Obi-Wan's after me."

"Well, that is reason for worry," Jazz conceded. "'specially coz you lost that fancy lil

light saber of yours."

Raindance nodded vigorously.

As if on cue, Sideswipe strode in, twirling a pole. "Don't think you can escape, Sith-spawn."

Raindance ducked, and Dodge frowned. "I'd thank you not to insult me. And what, exactly, did you do to my daughter?"

"s' just the finger paint Miles brought," Sideswipe muttered.

Bluestreak clicked and tilted his head. "You can bathe her tonight."

"Sure." Sideswipe beamed. Raindance beamed.

"And you'll clean up afterwards," Prowl added coolly.

"Okay." The red 'bot slumped somewhat. "C'mon midget, better we get it over with now."

Game forgotten, Raindance skipped over to Sideswipe and was picked up, getting black handprints all over his armor.

"And make her help with the cleaning," Dodge shouted before they were out the door.

Interesting.

"Is everything all right, doctor?" Bluestreak asked then.

"Of course. I just wondered if this is appropriate?"

"Excuse me?"

She looked up to find all four 'bots present rather bewildered. "Well. She's your daughter and he isn't even related to you…"

"Femme parts aren't different from mech parts," Jazz pointed out, speaking very slowly, as if explaining something to someone who wasn't very quick on the uptake. "So we don't have separate washracks."

"I know," Scully snapped. "This isn't about gender."

"I know you're accusing Sides of something," Bluestreak said. "Of what, exactly?"

Were they really that naïve? Scully hated herself for bringing it up in the first place, but there was no backing down now. "Child molestation is rather common around humans," she explained.

Dodge scoffed. "There's a reason why Raindance doesn't have internet access."

"You're not worried?"

"No."

"It's not possible," Bluestreak said very matter-of-factly.

"I know that you trust him-"

Prowl made a noise that sounded very much as if he were clearing his throat. "This is not a matter of trust. We do not work like you humans do."

Scully raised her eyebrow. She'd gotten that far herself.

"What he means is, we don't pair up because of some instinct to create offspring," Jazz said. "But you do. It feels good, you're getting off at the sensory input, but the main objective is the offspring. We didn't have that problem, right? Never had until now. So we're doing it for the emotional closeness. We're getting off on the closeness. The closer we get, the better it feels. So per definition, self service don't yield any results, and touching alone's pretty much useless, too."

"So, you do what?"

"Create an interface, hardwire or by touching sparks. That way we can feel what the other feels."

Scully nodded. This was interesting, and really quite different. Prime had called a bond a telepathic link. There would be virtually no secrets left, and that was… odd. Magazines for women often declared that mysterious was synonymous to erotic, and it was true, in a way. No secrets made things boring. "I won't pretend I understand this," she said. "We don't work that way."

"So I noticed," Prowl said. "Besides, sparklings don't have the programming for interfacing, and they feel different to us. Their spark energy feels different, therefore their touch feels different, and there's never been word of a Cybertronian that would find a sparkling's touch pleasurable. Our core programming doesn't allow for it."

"It's not possible," Bluestreak repeated. "I told you."

Scully nodded. "It's wise to have some kind of programming to keep you from harming your children…"

"I didn't say that," Prowl said. "I've seen enough neglect and mistreatment of sparklings, some of it even sanctioned by law."

"It's why so many military mechs joined Megatron back when he still was rallying for better living conditions and such," Jazz added.

Scully raised her eyebrow.

"You see, there always was some conflict or other," Bluestreak said. "I remember that one skirmish on some mining colony, so we really needed people who knew what they were doing, right, and I suppose everyone thought it was easiest to just spark some adult bodies and put them into training immediately."

What? Scully opened her mouth, closed it again. Like those war children in Africa? How could anyone expect the outcome of such abuse to be sane, or reliable? How could anyone take away choice like that? Some of her horror must have shown on her face, because Prowl actually squatted down to look at her.

"There were many things on our planet that needed changing, just like on yours. Our capacity for cruelty or thoughtlessness is as great as yours. Neither of our species has reason to adopt a holier-than-thou attitude." He glanced over at Dodge, who very pointedly ignored him.

"Yeah," Jazz said. "Like in that one legend of Alpha Trion, the one with the construction accident. The one of you that's honestly free of guilt may fire the first shot," he quoted.

"Like that," Prowl agreed, and rose while Scully scrambled for her notepad.

At every turn, more questions lurked, and she'd be lucky if she remembered them all. The President obviously had very little idea of what he'd asked of her – two weeks weren't enough to even scratch the surface.


	10. conclusion

Conclusion

Cybertronians don't tick, really. To speak with their medic RATCHET, "the 'ticking' of cooling metal is a bad sign for the Cybertronian doing the ticking", or in plain English, the person in question is most likely dead.

In a figurative sense, the ticking of time bombs was brought up by SIDESWIPE, and here I think that none of the Autobot faction seem to harbor any ill intent against the USA or humanity as a whole. They do compete with humanity over a small number of resources, mostly metals and water, but seem willing to offer their biggest resource, their technology, in return. Business should be relatively easy to arrange.

There are, however, a few things that need to be taken into consideration when dealing with them.

I cannot stress enough that we are dealing with the friendlier faction of a civil war. They are currently structured as an army, and will probably take several human generations to lose this structure again. Even if this wasn't the case, their society is organized as a monarchy. The Prime might listen to other opinions, but in the end any Cybertronian that isn't a Decepticon will jump if he orders them to. As they have graced their current Prime with the name OPTIMUS (latin, 'the best') it is highly unlikely they will change this arrangement.

Likewise, their ideas of states, countries, borders and ethnicity seem to exist on a purely theoretical level, holding no practical value whatsoever,_ if_ they don't elude the Autobot in question completely.

This, in turn, will lead to a refusal to fight in any war between human factions, as well as to an insistence that scientific findings and inventions should be used for the good of all mankind, and not just the USA. They might live on our land, they might observe our speed limits and other laws, but in the end, they are an entirely different civilization that will refuse to take sides if pushed.

This civilization might currently be homeless, but it is by no means stateless. Trying to incorporate them into any human system will be met with puzzlement and refusal. I believe they will remain a state within a state for the foreseeable future.

If handled incorrectly, they would probably not leave the planet, since they seem rather adamant about not letting humanity die at the hands of the Decepticons, but they might relocate further north, that is, to Canada. We'd be hard pressed to stop them if we wanted to ensure further cooperation.

If, however, handled correctly, the Autobots might prove to be an invaluable asset and most welcome guests.

August 29, 2007, Dana 'Razor' Scully


End file.
